Quoth the Raven'
by Yue Fetelia
Summary: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary.' Yet another version of Poe's Raven. Raven/Unknown. Most people will figure out who. Enjoy!


'_Quoth the Raven'_

By: MyxItUp

_Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,_

_Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—_

_While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,_

_As of some one, gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door._

"'_Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber _

_door—_

_Only this, and nothing more."_

The door was shut with a soft thump and an even softer click of the lock. Her fingers were running along titles as fast as her eyes, and one stood out. 'Those of Forest, Air and Water, volume 3'. It would be perfect to keep her mind occupied. She curled in a chair as a dark aura surrounded both her hand and the lamp. The light clicked on as she blew dust off the cover. Quiet steps told her she wasn't alone, however.

_Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,_

_And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor._

_Eagerly I wished the morrow; -- vainly I had sought to borrow_

_From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—_

_For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name_

_Lenore—_

_Nameless here for evermore._

Hours later, she awoke with a start. Someone, probably the person she had heard earlier, was kind enough to put a blanket over her, and start a small fire. It was down to embers, and the shadows on the floor flickered and danced, reminding her of those she had lost so long ago…

_And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain_

_Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;_

_So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating:_

"'_Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—_

_Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;_

_This it is and nothing more."_

A resounding thump at the library door told her that someone was trying to get in. She was the only one awake at this hour. The thump came again as she curled further in the chair. The curtains behind her rustled, causing her to start. She turned, half expecting to see someone. She put a hand to her chest and exhaled, trying to still her heart.

_Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,_

"_Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;_

_But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,_

_And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,_

_That I scarce was sure I heard you" –here I opened wide the door;--_

_Darkness there and nothing more._

Once more, the thump echoed around her. She looked to the door, so far away, and her hand was surrounded in the same dark aura as before. The lock glowed as well, and she moved her hand, sliding the lock open. The door creaked open and the girl continued to sit there, wondering if someone was there, or if her voices were playing tricks on her again.

_Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,_

_Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dare to dream before;_

_But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,_

_And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,_

"Lenore!_"_

_This I whispered and an echo murmured back the word,_

"Lenore!"—

_Merely this and nothing more._

Many minutes passed in silence. Her "friend" from before was still as well, both of them wondering who the visitor was, if there was one. One name came to mind, but she dared not speak it. That one name would cause the most pain. Two single syllables, two simple words, would bring fresh tears to her eyes and fresh cuts on her arm.

_Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,_

_Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before._

"_Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;_

_Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—_

_Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore;--_

'_Tis the wind and nothing more."_

Soft taps sounded at the window behind her, and she stood from her seat. She didn't even know why she was doing this. It couldn't be one of them. They wouldn't have anything to do with her now. Not since the accident had happened, at least. _He_ had been hurt the worst out of all of them. _He_ wouldn't speak to her for weeks after it happened. _He_ had never forgiven her.

_Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,_

_In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,_

_But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—_

_Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—_

_Perched, and sat, and nothing more._

She stared out of the window for a moment, trying to see who it was. After a time, she opened the window and walked back to her seat. Even if it had just been an animal, they would make better company than a simple book. She curled in the chair and wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders to block out the cold wind.

_Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,_

_By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore._

"_Though thy crest be short and shaven, thou," said I, "art sure no craven._

_Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the nightly shore—_

_Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"_

_Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

She fell asleep again, however, and didn't see the dark shape steal into the room. The steps were quiet, making as much noise as an owl, as he slipped to her seat. He made no more sound than a page being turned as he moved the blanket. She didn't wake, but curled onto her side, trying to keep her body warm.

_Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,_

_Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;_

_For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being_

_Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—_

_Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,_

_With such name as "Nevermore."_

He set the corner aside and stepped away, still silent. Not a single noise woke her, but the feel of fur slipping under her arm did. She woke again with another start, nearly knocking the black cat out of her lap. Emerald colored eyes stared at her as she calmed down. One hand went to the feline's neck, searching for a collar or tags.

_But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only_

_That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour._

_Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered—_

_Till I scarcely more than muttered: "Other friends have flown before—_

_On the morrow _he_ will leave me as my Hopes have flown before."_

_Then the bird said, "Nevermore."_

Finding none, she let her hand wander to his head and started to pet him. She knew, deep down, that it was a male. The feline started to purr, showing his enjoyment. "Where'd you come from, little guy?" She spoke softly. No need to wake restless spirits. The footsteps from before had long since faded away.

_Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,_

"_Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,_

_Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster_

_Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—_

_Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore_

_Of 'Never—nevermore.'"_

After a time, her stomach reminded her that she had skipped dinner. She turned red and looked to her new companion. "Would you like a meal as well?" She didn't even know why she was asking; she just knew to. The feline stretched in the way that all cats do, before leaping numbly down.

_But the Raven still beguiling all my soul into smiling,_

_Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;_

_Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking_

_Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—_

_What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore_

_Meant in croaking "Nevermore."_

She couldn't help but smile as the cat led her to the kitchen. Instead of walking to the pantry, like her furry friend had done, she walked to the fridge instead. She manually opened it and glanced inside, having to duck her head a little in order to do so. Her vision skimmed, landing on a fillet of _Esox Masquinongy, _or a muskellunge.

_This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing_

_To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;_

_This and more I sat dividing, with my head at ease reclining_

_On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,_

_But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er._

She_ shall press, ah, nevermore!_

She recalled Aqualad having come by earlier in the week to drop it off. _He_ actually remained a friend when the others left. He would come by weekly, dropping off food and remaining to talk for a while. A quiet mewl reminded her that she had someone to make dinner for. She smiled again and started to sing a quiet lullaby as she got out a knife.

_Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer_

_Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor._

"_Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee_

_Respite—respite and nepenthe from my memories of Lenore!_

_Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"_

_Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

An hour later, she and her new friend were back in her room. She didn't even recall how she and the cat had gotten there, just that she was showing him a photo album. One of his paws raised and pressed to a photo, one of her and him at a dance. He insisted upon taking her, since it was "high school tradition" according to him. Emerald green eyes stared at her as tears filled her own. The feline meowed and put his paws on her thighs, leaning up to lick away her tears.

"_Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—_

_Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,_

_Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—_

_On this home by Horror haunted,—tell me truly, I implore—_

_Is there— _is_ there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"_

_Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

A soft voice seemed to speak in her head, telling her that he would be fine, that she should continue her life as it had been before she met him. She shook the voice away, causing more tears to flow. The feline meowed sadly and licked her bottom lip. She wiped her eyes and stared hard at the cat. He seemed familiar…

""_Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!_

_By that heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—_

_Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,_

_It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—_

_Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."_

_Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

Another hour passed without her even noticing. The feline was curled up and sleeping in her lap, her fingers idly scratching his fur. Memories plagued her, but for once, no tears fell. Instead, she watched them, and she smiled, and laughed, and felt joy for the first time in a long time.

"_Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting—_

"_Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's plutonian shore!_

_Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!_

_Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!_

_Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"_

_Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

Before she knew what was happening, she was sitting on her bed with him standing before her. He had been gone so long, she almost forgotten what he looked like in recent years. He had gotten more muscle, his skin had gotten darker from so many hours in the sun. His eyes had gotten more serious as well as he tilted forward to softly kiss her on the lips.

_And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, _still_ is sitting_

_On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;_

_And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,_

_And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;_

_And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor_

_Shall be lifted—nevermore!_

She still couldn't believe he had come back, even after so long. His skin was still silky smooth, especially on his naked chest. Her fingers danced as he smiled that easy smile, reminding her of their childhood together. He had been so goofy back then. How was she supposed to know he was trying to court her? At any rate, it didn't matter now. Now, they had forever to be together...


End file.
